


Deception

by Eilinelithil



Series: Darker Hearts [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 21:59:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilinelithil/pseuds/Eilinelithil
Summary: With Snow and Charming closing in on her before she can complete the casting of the Dark Curse, The Evil Queen begins to tie up loose ends, including the issue of the girl she has locked in her tower, but even that doesn't go according to her desires, and to punish her former mentor, she places a geas on Belle.  Meanwhile Rumple, stripped of his powers by the cell he inhabits shares a dream with Belle - a warning of sorts. Tiger Lily - with Blue's "help" tries to fulfill her duties as fairy godmother. From the premise of, 'What if the Bone's WishRumple finds are not all Belle's.' (And therefore is Alternate-Alternate Universe).





	Deception

**Author's Note:**

> The story began life as a response to the first line monthly challenge posted on The Writer's Block, which can be found here: https://writersblock378601501.wordpress.com/
> 
> The story was meant to be a 'One Shot' but evolved and is now the first story in a series.
> 
> The textual excerpt from "Knightfall" remains the copyright of ABC and Jerome Schwartz & Miguel Ian Raya. However the interpretation in the scene is mine and tailored for the purposes of the story.

_The explosion that lit the night sky reflected in the water below. Echoes of the vibrant sparks rippled on the surface of the river, their colors muted, just as the remembrance of magic rolled like mist over the landscape.  Now was the time. The Faery Guard was changing, and this would be her only chance for another hundred years._

_“Hundred years and a day,” she corrected her thought, and began to scramble to her feet from among the river reeds, keeping low as she headed for the bridge; the portal into their realm. A shimmer of power, like a heat haze hovered over the center of the bridge giving her to think, ‘_ so much for running water as a barrier against magic.’

_She clambered up the rise, and the fingernails of one hand scraped against the rough stone as she made footfall upon the Bonnie Road that stretched to one side of her over the ferny hillside, and the other onto the crossing itself.  She took a breath, glancing once more about her for watchful eyes, rose from the lea of the stones and advanced onto the bridge._

_At the first step, ahead of her, a swirl of deep, maroon smoke spiraled up from the ground, parting moments later to drift across the water, revealing a too familiar figure._

_“Going somewhere, Dearie?”_

 

~0~0~

 

“Rumplestiltskin!”

Belle’s eyes flew open at the voice that answered. Deep, sarcastically mocking, but undeniably female.

“Oh, my dear, still pining after that _nasty_ little imp?”

She scrambled up, keeping her back pressed against the wall, and pulled the tattered rags that passed for the remnants of her clothing more tightly about her.  She raised her chin and glared at the woman, taller than her, and made taller yet by the high collar and dark crown she wore to contain the style of her hair.

“Did you come to gloat?” she demanded. “You can’t keep me here!”

“Oh no?”  The Queen answered, tipping her head to one side just slightly, just _so_ that made Belle want to push away from the wall and wipe the smugness from her face.  She thought better of it though, knew better than to get within arm’s reach of woman – had seen her tear the still-beating hearts from others for less. “And where would you rather I keep you?”

“I would rather you didn’t _keep_ me at all,” she said.

The Queen laughed, for a moment only, and entirely without humor.

“I bet you would,” she said, advancing toward Belle and stopping barely a breath away from her, and taking her chin in her hand leaned down into her face to add, “I didn’t come here to gloat, no.  It’s unqueenly. I have other, far different plans for you.”

 

~0~0~

 

_“Expecting someone else, were you?”_

_She reached out and tried to grasp his leather-clad arm and pull him aside, but he pulled away at her touch as though her fingers might scald him._

_“Rumplestiltskin,” she repeated his name and he rolled his eyes as she asked, “What are you_ doing _, they’ll—”_

_“They can’t see you, you know?” He cut her off, and held up his hand, pointer finger extended and wagging from side to side in admonition, adding, “Nor can they hear a word we’re saying.” His voice became even more sing-song in tired explanation as he pointed out the blatantly obvious. “We’re not on their side of the bridge.”_

_“Well, you better not follow me then,” she warned, sidestepping with intent to pass him by._

_He caught her arm, turning them both so that she now had her back to the portal into the Faery Realm and he faced it, the essence of their magic almost blinding, a hideous anathema to him; a place he would never, willingly, go._

_“I won’t let you do this,” he told her._

_“You can’t stop me,” she told him, and began to try and pull her arm from his grasp. “You let me g—no, you_ sent _me away.”_

_“Small details…” he wrinkled his face a little, as if trying to play the incident down, as if it had been merely an insignificant hiccup in their time together._

_“Rumplestiltskin, I_ have _to do this,” Belle said, “Let_ go _of me!”_

 _She pulled hard, harder than he expected; harder than_ she _expected evidently, as she pulled free and stumbled backwards, back toward the threshold of the portal._

~0~0~

 

“Belle…!”

Rumplestiltskin all but leaped to his feet, reaching out as though to catch her, his fingers clenching on empty air at the other side of the bars of his cell, cursing the properties of the prison that rendered him magically impotent… and susceptible to the human need for rest, and the affliction of dreams.

Wherever she was, she was in danger, he was certain of it… after all he had done to ensure that she would be safe… it wasn’t enough.

“It’s _never_ enough,” he snarled at himself, retreating from the cold touch of the metal bars, back into his corner, ready to let the madness creep over him again; anaesthetize the pain, but then… a sensation crept over him in the moment he heard the light scrape of a foot… and he tilted his head to peer out of his darkness.

“Well now…” he crooned, accented, “…come to see ol’ Rumple, have ye?”  He shuffled forward again, clawed fingers closing around the bars, “No need to be shy.”

“Hardly a characteristic of which I’m often accused.” The voice, when it came out of the dim light of the cave, was melodic, but dripped the nectar of sarcasm that set his hackles immediately on the rise. “And I wouldn’t be here at all if not for—”

“Then get out!” he snarled, recoiling from the bars at the sight of the Blue Fairy as she walked into the light and closer to his cage. “I don’t want you here.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Blue said, calm in the face of his sudden storm of rage, “what _you_ want, Rumplestiltskin.  I made a promise, and one way or another, I intend to keep it.” Then with a sickly smile, added, “One day you may even _thank_ me for it.”

“Never,” he snapped, then as if capitulating, moved closer to the bars again, and all but sang in a much more hopeful tone, “though, if you wanted to make amends… you might go ahead and let me out…?”

The smile she offered turned sad and wistful.

“Amends? Let you out? That’s not something I can do. I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand that was once again curled around the bars of his prison, and just for a moment he thought he saw contrition, genuine sorrow for all the heartache she had wrought upon him, but that thought rekindled the anger and his visceral hatred of her kind, and snatching his hand away from her touch, he recoiled.

“Then what use are you to me?” he demanded.  “Promise be damned. Go find another way. Reul Ghorm…”

She began to protest, holding up both hands against the magic he had once cast upon her; magic unaffected by his current confinement.

“Rumplestiltskin, don’t!” Then knowing she could not counter his coming dismissal, but a slave to her own conscience added, “Remember the dream… the _nature_ of dreams...”

“…leave me. Go back to whence you’re from!”

 

~0~0~

 

Everything was going awry, and not understanding how, and in the absence of anyone on whom to place the true blame, The Evil Queen fell back on the one person who had always been at the root of all her troubles, as well as a good many of her unrequited desires.

Oh, he’d pay. There was little point in keeping the girl – this insipid object of his affection, no matter how warped that affection might be – locked up in her tower, shielded so none would find her, when she needed all of her magic to defeat whatever attack Snow White might conceive. She and her annoying husband were making waves, and getting in her way, and for the first time in… well… ever, she actually worried that they might present a real threat. As for Belle, she might as well make it final now – once and for all – focus on the problems in hand, and that certainly wasn’t her former tutor’s little plaything.  No, now she would see to it that all he had left of the only one in favor of whom he had abandoned _her_ was ashes and an empty heart; make truth of the lie she’d told him, and oh, how glorious that moment had been, for all that he’d tried to mask his emotion. She had seen.

But she’d make it quick. She didn’t have time for anything else, with Snow all but breathing down her neck.

“What do you want with me?”

“Nothing at all,” she answered the girl’s question, one she’d grown bored with over the time she’d her locked in the tower. She came closer, right up to the girl, teased her pretty face.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Is that what you said to him?” she purred, allowing her jealousy brief reign, “All that time he had you locked up in his castle… night after night…?”

“What are you _talking_ about?”  The girl pushed at her, ineffectual – not strong enough after too many days lacking nourishment. Still Belle blushed. _Not entirely innocent after all then._   It fueled The Queen’s resentment, and she turned hard and cold.

“What do I want with you?” she growled against Belle’s face, then, swift as a snake striking in the grass, her hand shot out toward the girl’s breast, and there halted, suddenly, and as if she had struck a stone wall. Pain lanced through her arm.

“Damn you!” she snarled, cursing the absent member of their little triangle, swirling away to put distance between her and the girl. Her hand came up, filled with fire, until she caught a hold of herself and closed her fingers to extinguish the flames as the girl cowered against the wall.

“I didn’t do anything,” Belle protested.

The Queen waved her comment away. “He always was too clever for his own good,” she said, by way of explanation and laced with sarcasm, added, “Protected your heart.” The thoughts that came with the realization of what he’d done only added fuel to The Queen’s bitterness. “So be it, Rumplestiltskin. I’ll see to it that you’ll never find your precious maid.”

She turned her back on the girl, heading for the door and the guardsman there, whom she intended to instruct that _no one_ enter the cell, and nor should any leave.

“Why don’t you let me go?” Belle said, her voice just shy of imploring, instead it held an almost rational tone. “You don’t need me.  Rumplestiltskin sent me away.  Can’t be _that_ important to him if he’d do that… hmm?”

The Queen paused in the doorway, for a moment found that she actually considered the girl’s words, then she chuckled, and the chuckle became a vindictive laugh as a plan came to her – after all, there was more than one way to skin a cat. She closed the door, took the key from the guardsman, and then, peered in through the small square of open bars in the otherwise solid metal that made a window.

“You know,” she said, “for a moment you almost had me convinced… almost.  But no, I think not. I can’t have you getting away and running right back to Rumplestiltskin.” She shook her head.  “You’ll stay here. It’s fitting, after all. It’s what I told him your father did.”

“Wait, what…?”

Belle started toward the door then, at the mention of her father, and the more The Queen thought about it, the more she though she probably shouldn’t have said anything of that to the girl. She quickly slipped the key into the lock, and turning it, allowed the magic of a spell to flow through the key, into the doorway. If _anyone_ should find a way to get the girl out of the room, be that one of Snow’s annoying dwarven henchmen; one of Belle’s own father’s men come in search and rescue of her, or even Rumplestiltskin himself, a step beyond the threshold would deliver more… and less… than freedom, both at the same time.

“It was nothing,” she told Belle almost sweetly.  “Just a little white lie.”

She passed her hand over the lock one more time, setting the destination to the one place that Rumplestiltskin would never – could never – go. She almost hoped that it _would_ be the imp that triggered her spell – little knowing that it would be her last.

 

~0~0~

 

The sounds of the celebrations followed him no matter which corner of the cell he moved to. It set his teeth on edge, but more, far more than that. It meant only one thing to him…

She had failed.

The thought stuck in his craw, hard rocks against which to grind the rage he felt. How could he have been so foolish, so blind as to entrust his greatest masterpiece – his Dark Curse – to anyone else but himself, let alone his former pupil, that slip of a girl who’d had to be pushed and pushed and pushed to embrace the darkness inside of herself.

He growled, at no one in particular, then pacing began a brief monologue of self-deprecation. “Foolish Rumple, _blind_ Rumple… stupid Rumple, should have know better… if you want something doing properly, just… do it yerself!”

He moved into the light, grasped the bars as though he meant to crush them in his hands. With the curse uncast he was stuck; locked away for eternity. “Stuck in here, hobbled and castrated like some wild beast!” He voiced his lamentation, pushed away from the bars and retreated once more to the darkness at the rear of the cell.

 

~0~0~

 

In the lea of the towers of The Queen’s castle, shrouded by fairy magic, Blue watched. The ghosts of her wings fluttered in agitation, though unseen when she manifested – as now – in ‘human’ form. She watched as knights and soldiers hurried in through the breech in the gateway. Others rushed out leading servants and vassals as prisoners, or else liberated – she was yet uncertain – toward where Charming sat atop his white steed, directing the sacking of the castle.

“They’re going to find her.” The voice behind her startled her, and she half turned to shake her head, not in denial of her fellow fairy’s words already spoken, but at the ones to come. “You promised.”

“I went to him, Tiger Lily,” she said sadly. “He wouldn’t even _hear_ me.”

“There must be another way,” Tiger Lily all but pleaded, “Something you can do.”

“It’s a geas,” Blue said sadly, “Even _I_ can’t overturn something that strong – that… vindictive.” She shook her head again, watching as the shadows of Snow and Charming’s guards moved through the tower, ever upwards. “Only the one that cast it, or the one that holds her heart…”

She sighed softly, about to say more when Tiger Lily cut her off.

“Then we have to show her the way _out,_ ” She said, “Because Rumplestiltskin has no magic where he is, and since you won’t let _him_ out to—” She stopped then, and fixed Blue with a bitter stare. “If you think there’s nothing you can do, why are you here?”

 

~0~0~

 

_Rumplestiltskin raised a hand and flicked his wrist, his apparent stupor fading as Belle stumbled backwards towards the portal. A whirlwind of deepest purple began at her feet and climbed to surround her. She felt a momentary sense of warm dislocation, and then as the essence of his magic faded, she felt his fingers close around the tops of her arms._

_“You don’t want to go in there,” he said, and she looked up into his golden eyes as he wrinkled his nose and added, “Trust me.”_

_“I have to.” She pushed at his chest, her hands flat against the leather of his coat. Something in the manner of his posture, the tension, everything about him screamed of wrongness. “The guard is changing.  This is the only chance I’ll have for another hundre—well… ever.”  Something, some echo of their past made her reach up, cup his scaly cheek against her palm and add softly, “I’m not… immortal like you.”_

_For a moment, barely, she thought she felt him lean into her touch, as with a slightly flustered air he crooned, “Yes, well…” drew out the words, as though he could give her some kind of solution to that – and suddenly she glimpsed another world, another time, another woman urging a different man to grant her immortality.  As if he knew what she’d seen he pushed her to the extent of his arms, shaking the moment from her with a growled denial. “No!  You can’t go there, you can never go there.”  He let go with one hand to point over her shoulder with a blackened claw, warning, “That isn’t Faery, y’know!”_

_“Not—” she frowned, not understanding, “Then whe— what…?”_

 

~0~0~

 

She startled awake as the door practically flew back on its hinges revealing two mailed knights, each bearing swords, held ready as if for an attack.

“Wha— Who… who are you?” she demanded, sliding to her feet, braced against the wall.  Her limbs ached from sleeping in such a curled position.

“In the name of Queen Snow, you are released from your prison,” the first knight announced as he and his companion stepped to either side of the door.

“Return home quickly,” instructed the other, beckoning her on toward the stairway beyond the portal. “It may not yet be safe out there.”

“But,” Belle stammered, “But I… I have no home. I made a deal, a promise to Rumplestiltskin, and I—”

At the mention of his name, the knights each stepped into the doorway again, blocking her path.

“The Dark One,” one of them said.

Belle gave them a look, all but rolling her eyes as she said, “He really isn’t—” then squeaked in alarm as they grasped her by the arms.  “Hey!”

The first of the knights pushed her more fully into the arms of the second and ordered, “Take her to the King. He’ll know what to do.”

“Hey,” Belle repeated her protest, “No, wait!” She started to struggle against the knight’s hold on her arms. Somehow, some warning, some _sixth_ sense telling her, no… _urging_ her to stay within the tower’s uppermost cell. Perhaps if she were to reason with them. “We made a deal… my father… my people. Rumplestiltskin, he said—!”

“Save it for King David!” the knight spat, and began to half drag, half carry her through the doorway.

It happened as the knight pulled her beneath the arch of the door.  First there was cold; a cold like she’d never known before, then she felt as though someone had turned her inside out and back to front all at once, and the pain was blinding. Some giant hand, some force, twisted her ribs and crushed her spine before – a small mercy in a realm so far sorely lacking in that virtue – a smothering darkness settled over her. She didn’t even have the chance to cry out aloud for help.

 

~0~0~

 

The knight’s cry of alarm matched the one he was certain the girl had made in pain, except she couldn’t have. It had all happened so quickly, and now all that was left was a tangled, dripping mess of bones, where his fellow knight and the girl had once stood.

  
“You!” he snapped at one of the King’s soldiers that had followed them up into the tower, “Run down to the King.  Tell him…  warn him…”

The soldier nodded, backing away before he turned at the head of the stairs and ran, as if in fear of his life, screaming of The Dark One, a curse, murdered knights, and sacrificial maidens.

 

~0~0~

 

_“Darker, Dearie,” he crooned, keeping hold but turning her so that he was behind her, guiding her gaze to the shimmer behind the portal. It appeared to him as a writhing, seething serpent with bared fangs and a mocking, whispering embrace. “Darker even than my heart.”_

_“I don’t,” she began, then started over. “I don’t understand.”_

_“Of course you do,” he told her, “Look closer, past the rot that arrogant little gnat put into your head.”_

_“I’m sorry,” he scowled as she twisted free of his grasp only to turn and face him again, “Gnat?”_

_“Reul Ghorm.” At her continued frown of confusion, he waggled his head from side to side in a mocking dance, surpassed only by the derisive tone in his voice, “The Blue Fairy… holier than thou… meddler—”_

_He stopped abruptly as she shook her head and said, “It wasn’t Blue.”_

_“No?” he dipped his head to look at her; into her eyes, to be sure of the truth, since she had spoken of the fairy as though they were the best of friends. His frown darkened as he was assured of the veracity of her words._

_“It was The Queen.”_

_The Queen?” he echoed, his turn for confusion, for the barest of moments at least. Why would Regina tell Belle to pay a visit to the Dark Realm? A place where even he—_

_Like the mallet he had taken to his own flesh so long ago now it seemed, everything fell into place, and releasing Belle, he staggered a step or two backwards._

_“No,” he growled in denial, reaching for her again. “Not that… anything but that!”_

_“Rumplestiltskin!” she twisted, and he could see the alarm on her face, feel the pain, and not because of the tightness of his claw like nails against her skin._

_“Look at me,” he commanded. “Look. At. ME!”_

 

~0~0~

 

“I release you,” he said, urgently, jerking awake, “I _free_ your heart.”

He sat for many moments, breathing hard, trying to find a balance, remember where he was and above all, hoping against _all_ hope that in spite of the nature of his cell, that his words – and the feelings that made them – would be enough.

And then he laughed… out of control, a chuckle of madness for all that he had been through. It was just a dream, after all.  Just a dream… wasn’t it?

He was still giggling when the scuff of a foot sounded in the darkness, followed by a voice.

“Come out where I can see you!”

“Oooh, It’s Captain ‘Ook. Ooh what a lovely treat,” he giggled, though behind the mirth, his scheming mind was putting together, more vital now than ever, a way that he might find himself beyond these bars. “Oh, come closer, clo-ser.”

As Hook came close enough, Rumplestiltskin lunged at the bars, clawed hand outstretched and reaching for the man’s neck, but Hook must have been ready for him and pulled back, out of reach. He growled softly in ironic acknowledgement and then laughed just as quietly, drawing back his hand.

“You know, it’s been so long since I talked to anyone except,” he gestured at the creatures sharing his cell, “rats and leeches,” before turning his gaze back toward Hook.

“Oh, I didn’t come for the conversation,” the other man said, his lingering hatred and mistrust clear on his face.

“Of course you didn’t, Dearie,” he declaimed, before softening his tone, “So, um…” he made an incoherent sound before finding a way to sound as casual as he could about his question. “…what bring Captain Hook home?” Grasping the bars, he teased softly, seeking to manipulate the man to the fullest of his ability, to gain the advantage, “Finally ready to seize his revenge? Finally ready to kill me?” Reaching out again, he tried to grasp Hook, but the pirate caught his arm, held him as he pulled back to mock, “Or try.”

“I’m not that man any more,” Hook insisted through clenched teeth. “I finally learned… what it meant to live.” He looked away then, and Rumplestiltskin couldn’t help but moisten his lips in interest, wondering what caused the man’s discomfort in that moment, and how he could benefit from it the most and persuade the man to set him free. His answer came mere moments later, “And I’m willing to set aside my revenge to ask… to ask you for your help.”

Hook ran a hand over his forehead, humility obviously so alien to him that it made Rumplestiltskin laugh again, until the laugh became a sniff, and then another, until he was sniffing the air freely and said, “Yes, I thought I smelled desperation.  My speciality.”  Then, playing… dancing in his cell, his arms threading through the bars he asked, “So what’s the problem? A plague, a woman, a curse?”

“A daughter.” Hook confessed, his eyes closed, “A witch has locked her in a tower, and I… I _need_ magic to set her FREE!”

Hook was breathing hard, his emotion was so ragged, and Rumplestiltskin almost… _almost_ softened, as he said, “Oh, that’s doubly tragic.” Then he raised a finger and, in a sing-song voice, continued, “For you have come to the wrong place.”  He wagged his finger from side to side as he explained, “No magic here.”

Looking around Hook said, “I know this place drains your power.”

“Yes,” he agreed, making a pantomime of sinking to the ground, overly dramatic, playing to the moment, “Drains me.”

“If you help me,” Hook said, “If you help me free my daughter from her prison, I’ll finally free you from yours.”

Hearing the words he had manipulated the moment to bring into being spoken, falling from Hook’s lips, Rumplestiltskin fought not to let his elation show on his face.  Not yet… no not yet. Instead he stilled, looking up at Hook with a lost expression, turning to one of hope as he started to rise, asking almost incoherently, “Y…ou… want a de…deal?”

“Yes, a deal.”

“Deal…!” He let his elation free at last to cement the path on which they walked, laughing and clapping as he sang, excitedly, “Deal, I remember I use to… LOVE those.”  Then becoming serious, revealing what he had known all along would benefit both Hook, and himself, confided, “There is something. A magic weapon with the power to shatter any prison.” He spread his arms through the bars. Then with a frown of consternation, and not meeting Hooks eyes he said, “But it’s terribly difficult to obtain; terribly, terribly, terribly difficult to obtain.”

Hook spoke over him. “Just tell me where it is.”

Coming to life again, louder than was probably necessary, Rumplestiltskin declared, “It’s not a question of _where_ , Dearie, but who!” He barely paused. “This magic is in the hands of another famous captain.” He gestured toward Hook. “And you and I both know, pirates don’t give up what’s theirs… without a fight.”

 

~0~0~

 

Tiger Lily saw the flash of magic from the tower and turned away. She had failed – again.  The one remaining chance she knew she had to alter the course of Rumplestilkskin’s destiny back… away from the darkness, and the hate, and the anger that had taken him in the first place and _plucked_ him from what should have been. Lamentation silently filled her heart, but then…

 _I release you. I_ free _your heart._

The words were ethereal, carried on the hint of magic already so strained as to be virtually a whisper in the world. But that they heard them was a testament to the feelings that their owner would _never_ yet admit.

“Now, Tiger Lily,” Blue cried urgently, and grasped her hand. “Quickly now!”

The two fairies transformed, flying into the air with all their power and light streaming behind them, already crying the words they would need to subvert the intent of the geas, and save the girl’s soul from the endless torment they knew she would suffer, knowing what… or who… awaited her in the Dark Realm.

“Too late… too _late!”_ Tiger Lily wept as they alighted on the narrow ledge of what passed for a window and saw what carnage The Queen’s spell had left behind.  She turned her face away, thinking she was – feeling she was as lost as a soul wandering eternally in the Infinite Forest.

“He needs to admit…” Blue answered sorrowfully, “Admit the way he feels. Only then—”

“Only then _what?”_ Tiger Lily snapped, flying backwards away from The Blue Fairy. “She’s _gone.”_

“Yes,” Blue agreed, “Yes she is… and just for once I cannot see, cannot _know,_ as I know all things… but I have a feeling that fate is not done with Rumplestiltskin yet.”


End file.
